


Known Risk

by panties_and_pigtails



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abortion, Always a Girl Dean Winchester, Brother/Sister Incest, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Impregnation, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Miscarriage, Oblivious to Non-Con, Oblivious to Somnophilia, Sibling Incest, Suicidal Thoughts, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panties_and_pigtails/pseuds/panties_and_pigtails
Summary: Every time Deanna goes out she wakes up the next morning with come in her pussy. She has no idea that it belongs to her baby brother.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Unknown Male Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	Known Risk

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [come home to my arms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909885) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> Inspired by [this story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909885/chapters/11263390). Not the original author but I just couldn't stop thinking about Deanna's side of things. Would recommend reading for this to make sense.

Deanna was tired. 

Bone tired. 

And way too numb to be weary. 

She found it hard to feel anything at all most days. 

Except for Sammy. She would always manage to muster whatever light she could find within herself for him. She was all he had, his only constant, and he was so young still. He needed someone to give a damn about his day to day. And Deanna was happy to give it.

But it was exhausting.

When Dad was around and he was training her, he didn’t pull any punches, he was always pushing her to her limits. Testing her speed, her agility, her reflexes, her resourcefulness, her strength, her endurance. How to control her fear. His newest method was locking her in a box. The first time he’d left her with nothing but the clothes on her back, and yeah she’d freaked the fuck out. He’d left her in there until she quieted. Passed out. The second time she’d had a switch blade in her pocket. The metal in her hand settled her nerves.

Then there was the actual hunting itself. She got better with every kill. But it still took its toll.

Then in whatever make-shift home they found themselves in she was expected to be the perfect little homemaker, keep things clean, make dinner, except for the nights that _John_ was actually in a particularly _jaunty_ mood and decided to throw something together for them. That didn’t happen often. He was never around for long enough.

School. When she actually went was a joke, and she was sick and fucking tired of having to correct the teachers who would refuse to call her Dean. _Deanna_ : she _hated_ the sound of it in the mouth of someone it didn't belong to. Sammy was the only one who got to call her that. And John did when he was pissed, or whenever she called him _John_ to his face.

And that brought her back to Sam. Always. At the last three schools they had been at Deanna had had to make him a costume for something or other. She was always there to watch him in whatever he decided to take part.

So when it came to the end of the week, she needed to get out. She _needed_ something for herself. She needed something to make her forget. And even although she always promised herself she wouldn’t get black out drunk. She’d just have a couple of beers. And she absolutely wasn’t going to do any drugs. Two beers were never enough. Not when what she really needed was to sink into oblivion, two beers didn’t even touch the edge. 

Somehow she’d stumble _home_. And when she’d wake she’d discover the come in her pussy. 

The first time it had happened, she’d locked herself in the bathroom, put the shower on to drown out the sound of her sobs as she cleaned herself up. She couldn’t even remember having sex. She knew she’d been flirting with someone. She’d flirted with several someones. But she had been certain nothing had come of it. But clearly it had. She’d never felt so ashamed. Or so relieved when she got her period.

By the third or fourth time she woke up in such a state she didn’t even bother checking herself. Just took a shower. She figured _Once a whore, always a whore_. She just accepted it as part of the narrative. A payment, _punishment_ , for the hours of relief she got from not having to hold a single thought in her head. 

The first time she got pregnant. John had caught her holding the pee stick. And he’d drove her straight to a clinic to schedule an abortion. He’d never been so furious. Particularly for the fact that she had no clue who the father was. Called her every name under the sun. Sixteen and pregnant, the biggest fucking cliché in the book. Unforgivable in John’s eyes. He dropped her off at Bobby’s after the procedure. She didn’t see Sam or her father for four months after that. 

Not that she wanted to. 

She didn’t want to see anyone.

Least of all herself. She’d barely gotten out of bed the entire time she was there. 

She’d nearly bled out on Bobby’s bathroom floor after she’d smashed up the mirror.

There was a part of her that was sorry she didn’t.

The second time she got pregnant she went to the abortion clinic on her own. Took off for about a month. Dad didn’t need to know. And she never wanted Sammy to know her shame. 

Her sins.

The third time she got pregnant was when she was twenty. She didn’t get drunk nearly as often as when she was in highschool. But when she did?

She’d decided to keep this one. Third time’s the charm or some bullshit like that. She couldn’t take that trauma again. She hadn’t worked up the nerve to share the news with John or Sammy just yet, but then she figured they’d know soon enough anyways. 

Or well they would have if she hadn’t miscarried. She'd been on a solo hunt and she’d went down hard. The blood had seeped right through her jeans. That one had hurt more than the first two. The life she’d allowed herself to get used to the idea of keeping. Settling down somewhere more permanent. Maybe near wherever it was that Sammy wanted to go to college. He was only sixteen now. But she knew he’d already been looking. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad to step away from the life.

But the doc told her she had an _inhospitable_ womb. Kick a girl while she’s down why don’t you. And how remarkable it was that she’d even been able to conceive, he’d used a lot of other jargon-heavy words after that. Deanna had stopped listening. She’d cried herself to sleep when she was left alone to do so. 

They’d discharged her in the morning.

What kind of mother could she have really been anyway?

Sammy clearly didn’t want to stick around. He wanted to go to college, and it had been foolish of her to entertain the idea that he’d want her to go with him.

Hunting was all she was good for. 

Didn’t stop her from getting blackout drunk from time to time.

She was still a whore.


End file.
